RPLog:Never Go Against Family
-Yaartsek. An agricultural world in the Mid Rim, has been under Imperial rule since 17 BBY. Nine billion human colonists live here, and they tried to revolt against Imperial authority in 14 ABY. They failed. The Sith Empire recently attacked an ISB forced labor camp here, intent on reclaiming prisoners that had been stolen from them by the Galactic Empire. While successful in breaching the Empire's defenses, they were foiled by the ruthless Korynn Fleming, who ordered 'Procedure Seven' - the lethal gassing of every prisoner in the facility. Now, he owed the ruthless Governor, Djorn Mikei, for killing off a fair portion of his slave labor, and when it comes to these matters, Korynn is a man of his word. Korynn has come to hate Yaartsek with a passion. While the ISB's agents fill the world and work constantly to maintain civil loyalty, he can nearly smell the odor of sedition. On the outskirts of town, he stands at a heavily guarded landing platform build adjacent to a newly built ISB facility. The shuttles have been coming in for the last eight hours, carrying in hundreds of not-so-fresh workers from other camps, most of all, Coruscant. -When the administrator of the Sullust shipyards heard of Yaartsek's need for workers, he had been overjoyed to send him one of his more... problematic workers. Ever since his arrival, his flight line had experienced more minor mistakes and critical failures than ever before, and there was no doubt in his mind who was to blame. A New Republic technician captured during the Dacan Civil War, Javin Mitali sits on the bunk in his cell, tucked back into the corner with his knees hugged up against his chest. Battered and bruised, the Mirialan has endured some of the Empire's brutal re-education techniques over the last two weeks, but he has managed to hold out and continue hoping for rescue... so far. New worries and doubts now nag at the young man, having recognized an old friend's parents in one of the shipments of workers that arrived that morning. Noone had come for him yet - what if noone would come for them? -Wrista has never been what one would call overly-superstitious... but she'd chosen to appropriate /Tydirium/ for this trip for very specific reasons, and it seemed that those reasons were bearing fruit. The venerable lambda-class finds little problem joining the rest of the shuttles descending onto the planet and then breaking off from them quietly-- after all, who's going to notice ONE extra amid the general flurry of the things, nondescript as it is? And who's going to notice a shuttle that isn't expected at the facility skimming off to land in town, for that matter? Arguably, one might expect watchful eyes to catch the discrepancy... but Wrista expects /Tydirium/'s long, storied tradition of luck and providence to see them through. Regardless, the shuttle has scarcely hit the ground before its ramp drops, and a collection of men in spacers' gear toting a variety of arms and tools from their belts and jackets and packs disembark quickly and efficiently, led by a small grey-skinned twi'lek in a matching grey jumpsuit with a shawl-like half-cape over her shoulders, and an equipment harness strapped around her hips and upper legs. It may not be much of a force... but the cavalry has arrived. -/Tydirium/ just has a way about it... and as expected, it's slight diversion goes unnoticed. Meanwhile, Korynn watches the next pair of approaching shuttles with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face. "See to them," he comments aside to one of his ISB Officials, then turns and begins walking back toward the ISB facility's nearest entrance, which is surrounded by 3-meter high duracrete walls and an external shock-fence. -After hours of silent, worried thought, the imprisoned Mirialan suddenly... stops, his brown eyes sliding towards the door of his cell. Rescue may never have come for him, but perhaps rescue was already here for the Ipex family. Perhaps fate placed him in this place, at this time, to /be/ that rescue. Swallowing past a sudden rush of nerves, Mitali unfolds and slowly makes his way to the door of his cell, trying to think past an unfamiliar rush of excitement. He presses his ear and hands to the door, closing his eyes, and tries in vain to hear anything beyond its surface. If only he had a hydrospanner, he could slice this door before anyone knew what had happened - he knows how they work, he can almost see everything being rewired into their proper places in his head, almost /feel/ it... -Wrista and the commando team move quickly, knowing that even with civilian garb, their appearance makes them out of place in their current location... to say nothing of the weapons they carry. While nothing is Republic-issue, the carbines and pistols are relatively heavy-duty and would surely catch notice. Scans on the way in showed a fairly extensive sewer network that seemed it might provide access to the facility, and Wrista takes her bearings, noting general spatial relations of their position against the imposing structure as she and her people make haste for the safety and seclusion of the tunnels. -Access to the tunnels is not exactly easy, as the grates are bolted down and seared around the edges. COMPNOR standards, something Ipex's team surely came prepared for. Inside, the tunnels show the signs of disrepair. Strange conduits, mostly no longer used, run the length of old concrete walls that have seen their fair share of chipping and decay. Debris litters the narrow walkways on either side of what appears to be a gushing stream of murky brown sewage. Every so often, a strange device arcs over the open sewer stream, making passage to the sides difficult as it partially obstructs the walkways. Inside are lethal bolts of green energy which constantly shoot down into the sewage, purifying it. Some of them are broken, which causes some tunnels to house a rather putrid odor, where others seem relatively clean. Inside the large re-education and forced labor facility, Korynn is stalled by passing through the series of security measures in place, which include an identification station, a hand-print scanner, and a retinal eye-scanner. Finally inside, he walks down the imposing hallways, which are /just/ wide enough for two average-sized humans to walk past without brushing shoulders, and heads for the facility's control center. He sweeps about and enters, causing many of the room's white-uniformed occupants to bolt upright and stand at attention. "Resume," he commands, then sweeps over toward the Facility's Duty Chief, an ISB Major named Drembo Kulten. "Report," demands Korynn with a cold tone. Major Kulten reaches over to press a button. A holographic image appears, showing what is known to the ISB officers stationed here as 'The Vault'. "Sir. The Vault is currently processing new arrivals." The holographic display reveals two dozen prisoners, shackled at the wrists and ankles. They are stripped naked one by one by a set of COMPForce soldiers who are wearing what appear to be armored enviro-suits. Then, the soldiers begin spraying yellow dust at the prisoners from large hoses protruding out of the walls. It's a harsh delousing agent, designed to detoxify the skin, pores, and mucus membranes of most sentient life. It's a fast and effective procedure, but incredibly painful. It shows, as many of the prisoners collapse to their knees and roll around, screaming in their suffering. ->Click< Startled by the almost deafening sound, Mitali recoils from the door with wide eyes as its locking mechanism disengages and the door itself whisks open. He waits for six full breaths before he realizes noone is actually coming /in/ and his brow slowly furrows in confusion. Someone had to have opened the door. Who opened the door? Creeping forward, he leans out to poke his head out into the hallway of the cell block, glancing up and down for any signs of someone who might possibly have been responsible. -Indeed, a commando with a combat-engineering cert and a micro-torch gains the team access with a bit of effort, and does a half-way decent job of spot-welding the grate back more or less in place behind them. The smell, when it's an issue, barely goes noticed-- most of these hardened Marines have trudged through worse filth, and they don't even have to get particularly wet this time, though the purifiers do slow the negotiation down here and there. Eventually, though, Wrista's sense of direction gets them to the facility proper, and they begin searching for their entry point, shrugging out of their jackets. The fabric may well have absorbed some of the sewer smell, and detection is something they most certainly want to avoid unless it comes on their own terms. Wrista signals the group with hand signs, detailing them off into pairs, with one pair left to maintain their escape route. With one odd person out, Wrista motions one of the pairs to follow her as backup. With everyone signaling ready... well. It's go time, and Wrista takes point, senses alert and feet silent. -The facility's sublevel has a large utility room. In here there is a backup power generator, a server substation, and everything else necessary to run such a heinous facility, ranging from excess supply storage to large gas tanks bearing the concentrated, lethal fumes used for Procedure 7. It's dimly lit by a mixture of white and blood red lighting, giving the entire place a feeling of Machine Rule. The entry points located by Wrista and her marines are a pair of large dump pipes, where the raw material waste is collected and disgorged every 23 minutes. This becomes a stark realization when they hear the device churning to life, moments before it begins dumping a collection of 'leftovers' so vile it could turn a Hutt's stomach. Meanwhile, the Force is springing to life around Mitali's awakening spirit. The hallway outside is empty, and yet, the Force screams into the prisoner's mind a sudden urge, as if he /must/ go and turn left, before the guards come around the corner! Instincts are a powerful tool when fueled by the Force. Elsewhere, within the control center, Korynn watches the holo with a mixture of disgust and enjoyment. They are, however, distracted when a quiet alarm goes off on one of the security stations. A yellow blip appears on a grid of the facility's cell blocks. The operative monitoring the station nearly jumps out of his seat. "Cell breach on section A-A 23!" -The particular scream of instincts and insight are unfamiliar to Mitali, but he can find no fault in their logic, nor does he try. Without a second thought, he bursts from his cell and bolts left, boots and hands scrabbling for purchase against the smooth, polished floors. It doesn't take him long to lurch around the corner and to apparent safety, plastering his back up against the wall and looking around with wide, frightened eyes. /Something/ is happening to him, and he isn't sure what it is - but he can worry about it later. He needs to help the prisoners here escape and whatever's happening to him might be able to help him achieve it. -It's the lingering smell of the waste in the pipe that ultimately makes the difference. There are few reasons that Wrista should encounter these sort of lingering, vile scents in a *pipe*, and her time spent a youth in the Undercity has her keenly aware of how these kinds of smells are apt to work. Soon enough, the sound of cycling machinery is on the air as well, and suddenly the quick little twi is scrambling for the access hatch that *has* to be there for maintenance. One of the Marines behind her finds it, with a quick cry to get her attention, and the twi'lek joins him, both getting their shoulders under the plate to desperately beat the hinged plate open, tumbling through into the utility room in a pile, followed by a virtual jawa-pile as the rest of the team members pile through. The rear guard dives out, just in time to narrowly miss the torrent of disgusting by-products from who-knows-what sources, and one of the first marines to gain his feet slams the hatch back shut, cutting off the roiling stench while the team struggles to only wretch a *little*. Sewers are one thing, but... one trooper, catching his breath on the floor, pipes up. "And I thought COMPNOR smelled bad... on the *outside*." Tension-breaking chuckles run around for a few seconds before Wrista re-establishes discipline. "Alright, shut it down-- we've got a job to do. See if we can figure out where we are before we get going.” Surely, there's something around here that can cause more trouble for the Imperials than it will for the Marines. -"Initiate lockdown!" shouts Major Kulten, and the control center scrambles to work. The hallways are filled with sound as each door goes onto override, sealing shut with a brief electrical buzzing sound. One by one the cell blocks are locked; not even the ISB agents could get into the cells without reversing the lockdown from the control center. Watching all of this, Korynn scowls. "What is it about this bloody planet," he mutters under his breath. He folds his arms over each other, eyes digging holes into Major Kulten's skull as the Major demands answers for the security breach. Meanwhile, the sound of boot-steps fills the hallway where Mitali is hidden - his instincts will tell him exactly where to go so that he may stay hidden, if only he'll have the wit to listen to them! -Mitali's head whips up at the tell-tale sound of a base being put on alert. New Republic, Empire - the flashing lights and buzzing klaxons always sound the same. Setting his jaw as his mind starts screaming again, he pushes off of the wall and pivots on his heel, going sprinting up the hallway and zigging when his mind tells him to zig, and zagging when it tells him to zag, not entirely certain what it's guiding him towards - until he sees it. A small hatch set in the wall, unobtrusive and easily overlooked. The tech comes skidding to a halt in front of the hatch and neatly pops the panel, setting the cover down on the floor and taking a small step back to eye the multitude of wires and switches it reveals. Familiar and not, he feels his nerves start catching up with him again before he simply balls up a fist and launches it into the mass of delicate electronics, not even noticing as they cave in before his hand can even contact them. When he draws his hand away, the wires are all but shredded. His mouth twitches upwards into an anxious smile before he calmly replaces the cover. -Wrista is quick to spread her team out to take stock of the utility room. It's the tanks that give the twi'lek pause. The *gas* tanks. She's no chemist... but her family is full of them, and it doesn’t take a lot of knowledge to hazard a guess. She waves to get attention from her combat engineer, and points out the pipes coming off the tanks. "Disable them. Jam the valves, cut the lines-- I don't care how you do it, but make sure that filth *does not work*." She pauses, reaching for his arm before he can scurry off on his task. "Take two extra men, and see what else you can kill here. Generators, whatever. Kill the lights if you can. Pull data dumps on any systems you can find, then slag them down-- Intel can decrypt later." The Marine grins like Wrista just declared an early Life Day, and then nods, hurrying off to be about the tasks, and Wrista carries on, moving for the lift to the rest of the facility, four marines on her tail waiting patiently while she keys the lift. -The little box is sparking by the time Mitali closes the hatch, cutting off a thin tendril of smoke, evidence that will be gone in seconds. The result is nothing that will do anything to help Major Kulten's career. The various cell doors unlatch, and begin swooshing open and closed at various intervals. The healthier and more sound of mind prisoners begin emerging first, and shouts of conflict begin echoing throughout the halls as the dispatching COMPForce guards begin making efforts to subdue the escapees. A few of them, however, are able to hold their ground, a sign that an actual revolt may become possible very soon, once the other prisoners come to a slow realization that freedom is here. This, of course, causes even more commotion within the control center, and it borders on panic until Major Kulten rallies his team, and orders all COMPForce units to detain the escaping prisoners. Korynn steps aside, reaching for his personal comlink, and calls up the Imperial Garrison stationed in the city proper. He is cool and collected at first, but by the end, he's yelling angrily into the comlink. "This is Director Fleming. The detention facility is facing a total breach from the inside out. Dispatch Stormtroopers and air support. Whoever has caused this, I don't want them getting past these walls!" There's a single utility turbolift leading from the utility sublevel up into the facility proper. It's large, and it's filled with a dozen COMPForce troopers, who are coming down to secure the basement and its assets. There's a quiet 'ping', before the doors slide open. The trooper in front blinks his eyes when he sees... ARMED PEOPLE. "What the!?" -"Hello there!" The twi’lek chirps in a manic cheerfulness as the lift opens in front of her, even as a glimmering flash of metal scythes through the air. Wrista is already on a hair-trigger for combat, and with the sight of the gas tanks... knowing her parents are here in the facility... the cold killer is loose in the sort of way the twi'lek's really never allowed before, and her short-sword is out nearly as fast as the twi can step forward, the tiny marine launching a vicious slash for the trooper's throat. She doesn't stop to see if she hits, using surprise to shoulder and slide her way in amongst the soldiers, where she can find a LOT of damage to do with her simple bladed weapon-- and her marines know her well. They're well aware how tall she is-- or *isn't*, and weapons fire sweeps the lift above her head while the dancing blade does its work lower down. -Despite the way his hands are shaking from adrenaline and excitement, Mitali's mind is surprisingly calm - the more he listens to the instincts guiding him, the calmer and more comfortable he becomes, trusting in them to see him through this as safely as possible. The sound of conflict troubles him, but he knows it was inevitable. He closes his eyes and thinks, trying to figure out where in the facility the Ipex family might have been taken... and at the first glimmer of what might possibly be an idea, he's off and running, a determined set to his bruised jaw. He has to find them. Now. -The first trooper is still clutching his throat when Wrista shoulders past him, and the blaster fire following is ferocious. What's left over is a mass of smoke, tattered clothes, and bloodied bodies. Meanwhile, the tech-savvy of Wrista's marines manage to clamp off the gas tanks. "Tanks are offline," one reports. "Ready to cut power!" calls another from far across the room. Once he gets the signal, he pulls a large lever, cycling down the backup generator. It'd take 4.8 minutes to bring it back online once it's finally ceased its interior reactor, which won't take long. Then, he moves over to expose the primary power couplings, aims his carbine, and lets loose a trio of blasts that melt the couplings with a spray of arcing electricity. The lights across the entire facility flicker and die. Emergency lights spring to life, casting an eerie glow in the hallways and within the control center. With their databases offline, the ISB officers within the control center are now useless, and Korynn knows it. "Major, we're done here." Major Kulten nods, and quickly orders everyone to go and join the COMPForce soldiers in their task to repress the prisoners. He tosses Korynn a sidearm, and Korynn follows them out into the darkened hallways, scowling all the while. Major Kulten's face has gone white with fear. -The conflict between prisoners and COMPForce would be harder to get through if Mitali wasn't so slight, or so lucky - he ducks and twists through the crush of bodies towards what he can only describe to himself as a shining beacon, eventually coming stumbling out from the crush right in front of his prey: a pair of twi'leks in drab jumpsuits just like his. "I'm Javin Mitali," he gasps out, lifting his hand. "I'm here to rescue you!" The pair blink and exchange an odd look. Shaking his head, Mitali hurriedly adds, "I'm a friend of your daughter's!" "Wrista?!" one of them cries in surprise, her eyes lighting up. "Gather your family. We're leaving," Mitali says confidently, before he turns back towards the conflict and raises his voice, cupping his hands to his mouth to amplify the sound. "GET TO THE LANDING PADS!" -The Marines pile into the lift-- unaware and uncaring of the tech's progress-- And Wrista keys it into motion with her fist. She's in control, but the blood seeping along her blade and marring the lift has set the red in her eyes positively aglow. The power cuts off just as the lift reaches the target level, and Wrista doesn't even blink. "Rip it," she says in a cold tone, one hand pointing left and right in turn. "Two left, two right. Move fast, hard, and sure. We leave noone or noone leaves." The troopers are fast to burn the door from the frame, and when they're done, Wrista's through before it's even finished falling, eyes scanning for targets and cover as her Marines engage in a textbook hot-entry, laying down suppressive fire whether it's needed or not. -"The power is down," dictates Korynn. "If they rally, they will go for the main entrance or the landing pads. We cannot initiate Procedure 7 unless we lock down the damned doors." Indeed, it would be a waste of time to try and locate the gas masks. As the bulk of ISB agents move along down the hallway, Korynn is confronted briefly by an escaped prisoner, who quickly meets the heavy end of Korynn's strong forearm. The prisoner 'oofs' and goes to the ground, unconscious. Seems the Director favors his own flesh and bones over the pistol that remains useless in his holster. Meanwhile, large skiffs bearing Imperial Stormtroopers are headed from the Garrison toward the facility at rapid speed. There isn't much time, and there are hundreds of them coming. If they reach the facility... it's all but over for the would-be rescuers. -It may be an uncoordinated and unplanned revolt, but all of the prisoners thirst for the same thing - freedom. The direction to go for the landing pads does not go unheard and only serves to make them fight harder, with many of them taking up the weapons of fallen COMPForce troopers as their own, while others still scoop up the wounded or unfit to carry them out on their backs. Noone wants to see anyone left behind in this nightmare. Noone. Mitali has one of Wrista's younger cousins riding piggyback on him as he leads the rush of prisoners on their escape, something in the back of his head telling him to hurry-- not that he wasn't inclined to before, but it feels more urgent than it should. But there's something else, as well, something familiar that he can't quite put his foot on, but he can't worry about it right now-- he has other things to worry about, like the fresh group of a half-dozen COMPForce troopers now spilling out his path, blocking him and a group of prisoners from continuing on to the landing pads. Now what? -Wrista sweeps down the hallways on silent, quick feet, cutting through troopers that she can't simply bypass and letting her team gun down the ones she can't cut, letting instinct carry her through the facility-- unlike Mitali, her instincts are simply that, but they're the result of years of training. The only words she utters as she moves, her double-pair of Marines trailing down the sides of the hallway behind her, is into her com. "This is Specter. Extract topside. Peregrine, launch and clear the pad for HOT pickup." That's when she comes around the corner and finds COMPForce uniforms between her and... a lot of other people. Her eyes roam in Scout-trained patterns, and pick out... Mitali? Carrying *Evee*!? It's a momentary shock out of her trance, and then her eyes find the rest-- mother, father... Ser Ipex, the human head of the family... and COMPForce guns. It's that last that narrows her eyes and bring her back into the deadly groove, and she rushes forward on fast, silent feet, her grey skin and clothing making it imminently clear where she got her primary callsign. Then she's there, just as a trooper opens fire, narrowly missing Mitali, and the shriek when a fast blade opens a trench along his spine his chilling. Behind her, a short conversation passes. "What're the odds?" "Shut up and hose the blaster-bait." The far less-visible Marines behind Wrista open up, taking time to aim carefully as they rain red death down on the troopers from behind while their Captain goes through soldiers with nexu-like dispatch. -Mitali sees the shot before it comes and twists to put the girl on his back as far from it as he can, a sharp cry of "DOWN!" sending those in the stray bolt's path down and out of harm's way. It isn't until his passenger lets out a slightly frightened cry of Wrista's name that he blinks in surprise and looks back towards the rapidly dwindling group of COMPForce troopers. It /is/ her... and she isn't alone. "Thank the Maker," he whispers, waiting for the coast to be clear before he nods the prisoners onward. "I don't know if we have enough pilots," he calls towards Wrista, figuring that proper reunions can come once they're out of imminent danger. Right now, they need to get to the landing pad, and they need to do it /fast/. -The COMPForce troopers might have had a shot at regaining control of the facility, if it weren't for the expert marines who hunt them like womprats. By now, Korynn and his charge of ISB officials are out on the landing pad. "Fan out and secure the shuttles. We'll have to hold them off until the Stormtroopers arrive." The telltale cry of TIE fighters echoes through the skies above, but they'll do little good here, unable to bomb the area with such a high-level member of the Select Committee present. Korynn eyes the shuttlecraft... if the escapees get there, they might be able to escape before the orbiting Star Destroyer can capture them. Taking out his pistol with a scowl, he sets up behind a crate, and aims at the door. His aim is not the best, but he's able to pick off two of the first prisoners as they run out into the open, thinking they are free. Now they are dead. -There's a reunion despite everything, as Wrista pauses, the last of the COMPForce burned down by blaster fire. At first, the Killer is still in her eyes, but it melts quickly enough as family surrounds her, and she nods to Mitali, lekku twitching while there's an abbreviated exchange of tearful hugs, despite the blood all over the little Marine. She nods once at Mitali as she slides back into Business Mode, and grins wryly. "No wonder they're all out if *you're* here," she says, and leans over to peck his cheek in a grateful, friendly manner.. and then with the other six of her team catching up from the basement, she signals it's time to go. "/Tydirium/'s coming for a pickup, but she's only going to be taking us," she agrees with Mitali, already starting after the prisoners that are beating feet for the pads. "We're going to need more shuttles..." "I can fly," Ser Ipex puts in, somewhat irritably. "It's been years-- but damned if we're staying *here*." Another prisoner puts in as a pilot as well, and hesitantly, a couple other prisoners put their hands up as well. Wrista nods them towards Mitali. "Javin, give them a crash course on Lambda controls-- it'll have to do." When they get closer to the pads, Wrista hisses a "Wait!", but isn't able to stop the two prisoners how are first out the door... and then there's blaster fire and she scowls. There isn't time to do this carefully, but they do have an advantage... -Mitali smiles quirkily as he leans down enough to allow for the peck, shifting his grip on young Evee long enough to give Wrista a quick but fierce hug around her shoulders with one arm. He's never been happier to see anyone in his entire life, and it shows. "You're not coming back with us?" he asks, sounding puzzled - but he can find out why later. For now, he simply nods and slows his pace long enough to fall into step with the group of volunteer pilots, running down the essentials as they run through the facility. How to fly them, how to program a hyperspace jump, where to plot their course to - he runs over it all quickly, but as many times as they need. As they near the pads, his head whips up with a worried expression before Wrista can call for them to wait and his own warning is hissed out simultaneously - but too late. He grimaces and hunkers a little lower behind the marines, glancing back to Ser Ipex and the others. "When the path is clear," he says quietly, "Run. And don't look back." -Wrista waves her team into position, trading her sword for a blaster carbine, and looks back at Mitali, shaking her head. "I'm not supposed to be here. They'll miss me at the big dance," she grins, then sobers. "Well, the would. Hopefully they won't," she adds, then glances towards the doors, then at her parents, who just give her a little nod each, her father clutching a plundered COMPForce weapon. The Captain looks back to her men. "Alright, boys. Clear our friends a path." "'oorah," the point men murmur back, and then move. The difference between the prisoners couldn't be sharper. They're not dressed as prisoners, and the guns they carry are not plundered weapons. They aren't standard-issue, either, but each carries a personal choice of carbine, and all are military grade. They're well-trained, frontline NRMC, and the first pair dive and roll out of the door, two more swinging into the door from the frame, and they waste no time laying suppressive fire and finding targets to zero in on while the point pair move to cover. If there was any question what happened in the facility... there probably isn't now. -Korynn is ready to fire again, but his quick eye catches on that these are NOT prisoners. He pulls his shot, scowling again. He's no match for trained soldiers, and it's best if they don't realize he's here. Quietly, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small capsule, which he sticks into his mouth... just in case. Meanwhile, the remaining COMPForce guards and ISB agents do their best to gun down the infiltrators... but they're no match for NRMC. None of them. Brainwashed, they rush out to be slaughtered, leaving the job to be done by the Stormtroopers who are nearing the shock fence. The sound of their skiffs can be heard from over the three-meter-high duracrete wall. With the power offline, they'll be ready to breach that wall in no time. The sound of boots hitting the dirt surrounds the landing pad. -The Marines are brutal and efficient-- especially with the Stormtroopers banging on the gate. Wrista doesn't wait for the last trooper to fall before standing and waving the prisoners to the shuttle with a commanding voice. "Shuttles now! Move it!" The Marines focus on putting the rest of the soldiers down and maintaining a watch for surprises, And Wrista runs alongside her family, carbine up. It's a little selfish, but they and Mitali *WILL* make it. In fact, if Korynn should spare a look, Wrista is moving alongside her taller, golden-skinned cousin-- the one she was impersonating when last he saw the twi'lek. The final piece of the puzzle arrives in the form of /Tydirium/, the shuttle's wings folding as it comes in for a recklessly fast, precision landing. The shuttle's weapons are light, ill-suited to real combat, but they're still starship-grade, and there's a brief spray along the wall before the Lambda's wings fold and she touches down, ramp extending as the Marines start to finish their extraction in a professional leapfrog maneuver. Wrista, as is her wont, hands at the foot of the ramp, covering the rest of her team as the shuttle fills. She's never much card for being anything but the last off a rock, and that's not changing now. -Mitali doesn't need to be told twice. He swings Evee around to hold her to his chest, trying to shield the young twi'lek from any stray fire with his own body as he bursts from cover to lead a group of prisoners towards one of the shuttles, much as the other volunteer pilots do with their own groups. There are a few odd little hitches to his pace as his mind tells him to slow down here or surge forward there in order to make the passage safely, and he can feel the heat of blaster fire as it rushes /just/ past him, leaving proximity - but not contact - burns on his jumpsuit. Trusting in the others to do the same, he rushes up the boarding ramp and straight into the cockpit, depositing the girl into the copilot's seat before he sits next to her and his shaking hands start flying over the console, his brow knit up in intense focus. He isn't sure how he knows when everyone is aboard... just that he does, and he immediately slams the ramp retraction and airlock seal with his fist. -Many years ago, Korynn was given a gift from Darth Malign. He promised he would never use it until it was absolutely necessary. When he spies the short Twi'lek, the recognition sets in, and rage takes its form. Snarling, he rips from within his belt pouch a small, spherical device.... a thermal detonator. Clicking it to life, he comes out from behind the crate. With a cry of rage, he hurls the detonator toward /Tydirium/, his eyes aglow with murder. Then he dives for cover, pulling himself behind the steel crate and hunkering himself up into a ball. The object soars through the air, and /just/ glints off the side of /Tydirium/, barely short of bouncing inside the ship. It clatters to the ground, lights flashing. /Beep...... Beep...... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep, beep, beep, beep bebebebebebbeeeeeeeeee!!!/ -When the ISB director drops cover, Wrista sights her blaster, but quickly recognizes the man from the other side of that table so many months ago. Years, at this point. But one simply doesn't forget the sheer slimy malevolence of such a person. She should, by rights, end him now. But she can't help the chance to banter with the mission nearly completed. "Give this to Dorian for me," she calls, blowing a mocking kiss. "Never would have found them without the help!" Then she catches sight of the glimmer in the air, and realizes her mistake in not shooting. She snaps off a hastily-aimed shot anyway, even as he dives for cover. Least she can do is a leg or something for all this trouble he's being... And then the exact nature of the mistake registers, beeping on the ground, and she yells into her com, turning. "Lift! Lefty, get us out of here!" She throws herself onto the retracting ramp as /Tydirium/ surges into the air, repulsors clawing for altitude, and the shuttle staggers when the detonator goes off too close for safety, momentarily losing its lift due to some damage to the starboard repulsorlifts. But secondary systems keep the craft in flight, and the graceful wings unfold as the pilot slams the throttle forward. -Mitali isn't oblivious to the trouble outside - how can he be, when his mind is screaming at him about it even as his own shuttle, like so many others, begins to lift off into the air? "Don't worry," he asides to the worried girl seated next to him, even as their craft, too, is shaken by the explosion below, not nearly as violently as /Tydirium/ but enough to cause its passengers some concern. "Just impacted on the surface. We're all fine here, now." One by one, the shuttles turn in place and lower their wings, streaking off through the stormtroopers' blaster fire as they make a break for orbit, several of the pristine white ships picking up little black pockmarks from the blaster bolts for their trouble. Despite his comforting words to the girl, Mitali knows full well that they aren't fine - not yet. Not until they make it to hyperspace. He starts plotting the route now, lightly biting his lip as he tries to concentrate on what would normally be too many things at once. -The blast cooked his boots, but that's all. Korynn has much more to worry about. The thermal explosion blows past him; his life spared only by the crate that stands between himself and the thermal detonator. "Aaaaahhhh!!!" he cries out with momentary terror as the heat singes his clothes, his hair, his skin. But soon enough it's over, and he's none the worse for wear, if the same can't be said for the crate, the blast-side of it now half melted into slag. He uncurls and peers up at the sky, watching the shuttles' retreat, brow quivering with anger. It rolls off his tongue like poison. "Rebel scum...." Never Go Against the Family